


When The Line is Crossed

by ama



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Begging, Desk Sex, Dirty Talk, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Internalized Homophobia, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Missing Scene, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 17:56:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21040355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ama/pseuds/ama
Summary: They do talk about football and women. Sometimes. But more often, they don't.





	When The Line is Crossed

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all. I was SO convinced at the end of Season 4 that Finn was gay. With the whole prostitute thing, and the fact that we'd had little tiny moments of gay content but hadn't really had our Period Gay Plotline yet. And then Billy showed up and there were some lingering shots of Finn in his intro scene, I was SO SURE IT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN... alas. That's why fanfiction exists, right? So yeah, I wrote this in like three hours instead of sleeping. Pls enjoy. (Title inspired by Halestorm's "I Get Off.")

“Family meeting. Tommy’ll be at the Garrison within the hour, eh?”

“Right, Arthur.”

Finn isn’t looking at his brother, though, and he doesn’t look around when the door slams. He stares at Billy. He’s not sure what it is, the cocaine or the adrenaline, but something is buzzing in his veins, getting his blood hot, making his cock hard. Finn rubs his hands back and forth over his thighs and licks his lips.

“Football and women,” he says with a sneer.

“Yeah.” Billy’s been stuck staring at the door Arthur disappeared through, but he looks at Finn and a pleased little grin bubbles up on his face. “Football and women,” he laughs.

“Come over here and suck my fucking cock.”

Billy doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s the only one who listens to Finn’s orders because he’s Finn, the only one who doesn’t look over Finn’s shoulder to see if Tommy and Arthur are giving the nod. He loosens his tie as he rounds the table and Finn sees the outline of an erection tenting his nice new suit trousers. Finn’s mouth waters a bit but he swallows and doesn’t say anything. He’s a Shelby and Shelbys don’t suck cock… at least not with only a single shot of whiskey and a line of cocaine in them. It takes more, a lot more. (Less every time.)

Finn shoves his chair away from the desk and turns to the side. Billy falls to his knees and kisses him, pawing at his chest. Finn’s hands twist in his hair. He likes the tickle of Billy’s beard and the dark, spicy smell of the oil he puts in it. Billy licks into his open mouth and he groans.

“Can’t fucking undress me,” Finn pants when he realizes Billy is trying to undo the buttons of his waistcoat. “I’ve got a family meeting.”

“Think you’re going to last a whole hour?” Billy teases, but he obligingly reaches for Finn’s belt instead, and Finn shoves his head down. Billy kisses him through the fabric of his trousers and then peels them away.

Finn tilts his head towards the ceiling when Billy gets his mouth on his cock, and a choking kind of moan spills out of his mouth. He runs his fingers through the older man’s hair, less aggressive, just feeling the softness. Billy’s mouth is hot and wet and it feels so good but there’s not enough pressure. His head bobs at a reckless pace and Finn has never felt this desperate this quickly.

“Billy,” he growls. “Stop fucking teasing.”

Billy meets his eyes. He sucks a little harder but slows down, lowering his head inch by inch, and Finn’s hips lift off the chair of their own volition. Billy swallows once and Finn almost whimpers, but then he pulls back. He holds Finn’s cock in his hand, pressing the head against his lips, and his tongue circles it lazily.

“C’mon, Billy, please.”

“Please what?” he asks with wide, angel-blue eyes. “Tell me what you want, Mr. Shelby, and I’ll do it.”

“More, you bastard.”

“More of this?”

Billy jacks him off slow, pressing sloppy kisses to the side of his cock.

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I want—” Billy’s grip tightens, and Finn squeezes his eyes shut. His tongue darts out to lick his lips again. No, he thinks. That’s not what he wants. “Fuck me,” he says hoarsely. “Fucking—fuck me, Billy, split me open—”

Billy is standing before he can even finish, dragging Finn up by the collar to kiss him. His hand cups Finn’s jaw. He’s got big hands and he can do a lot of good with them. Finn knows.

“I ever tell you how pretty you are?” Billy asks, breathing hard. His eyes have gone black and his voice has gone low, like when he sings. Finn swallows and teases Billy’s lip between his teeth. “God, look at you. Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, Finn.”

His lips caress Finn’s neck. Finn gulps for air and wraps his hand around Billy’s wrist. He sways forward, unable to stop himself, as his bare cock rubs against the silk of the older man’s suit. Billy sucks a mark high on Finn’s neck and bites his earlobe.

“Makes me want to bend you over this fucking desk,” he murmurs. “And fuck you like you’re not a Peaky Blinder.”

“Do it,” Finn moans. “Do it, Billy, please.”

Then his hand is at the back of Finn’s neck, forcing him down. Finn swipes at the surface of the desk, clearing ledgers and whiskey glasses. He barely finishes before Billy has forced him all the way down, his front pressed against the desk. He closes his eyes and spreads his legs. Billy helps him out of his coat and pushes his trousers down further, exposing his bare arse. Billy grabs his arse with both hands, massaging him, smacking him a little, then steps back and starts to rifle through his own coat pockets.

_Oh God,_ Finn realizes. _Arthur didn’t lock the door._ Arthur didn’t lock the door and that means anyone could walk in, _anyone,_ and find Finn bent over his own fucking desk with his trousers around his ankles. His knees tremble and his hips move again, seeking some kind of relief. Billy slaps him.

“Cheeky little thing. God, I remember what it was like being twenty and desperate for it.”

“Twenty-one.”

“Oh then that makes all the difference, doesn’t it?”

His eyes are still closed. He can hear Billy moving, though, and guess what he’s doing. The sound of a paper packet rustling, that’s the condom box, and that quiet little thunk, he’s just put the lubricant bottle on the desk, so next will be the sound of Billy taking off his belt—he almost leaps up when suddenly Billy grabs him, spreads his arse cheeks apart and licks at his hole.

“What are you doing?” he demands, but even before the words leave his mouth he is squirming and inching back. It’s indecent, wholly indecent, but maybe he’s gotten used to that because his knees have gone weak.

“Getting you all nice and wet,” Billy says.

He licks Finn again with the flat of his tongue and then pushes inside him. Desire is sparking up and down Finn’s spine and he balls his hands into fists. Billy’s tongue isn’t big enough or stiff enough to really get him off but God, it makes him think about what else can be shoved up there. He realizes he has been holding his breath and he gulps for air. Billy pauses for a brief moment to unscrew the cap of the little bottle. He kisses Finn’s entrance and licks up his back as he replaces his tongue with his thumb, dripping with lube. He rubs small circles into Finn’s hole and a whimper escapes his lips.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.”

“Got to get you ready first, don’t I?” Billy swirls his index finger in the lube and starts to rock into Finn again. He gets deeper this time but it doesn’t stretch as much, and Finn is throbbing with anticipation. “You’ve got a family meeting.” He leans over and kisses the base of Finn’s shaved skull. “Can’t send you to the Garrison walking funny, hardly able to sit down, like a whore at dawn. What would your brothers say?”

Finn reaches up and grasps the edge of the desk, fingers gouging the wood.

“Do as you’re _fucking_ told,” he snarls.

He turns his head as much as he’s able and Billy’s mouth finds his. His tongue is hot and his breath is coming in impatient bursts. It’s a searing, quick kiss, because he has to break away to get the condom on. He puts more lube on his cock, too, but then he presses up against Finn’s hole and thrusts to the hilt.

A guttural moan is knocked from Finn’s mouth. His forehead hits the desk with a thunk.

“How’s that, _Mr. Shelby_?” Billy says breathlessly. He rubs Finn’s lower back and pushes all the way up his spine, over his waistcoat, until he can tangle his fingers in Finn’s hair and shove his head down. “Is this what you wanted?”

“Yes.”

Billy has pulled out and thrust back in again, and the word is forced out of him. Finn bites his lip. It doesn’t stop the sounds from coming, faint whimpers and moans that start somewhere deep inside him. Above him, Billy is panting, a litany of foul words and Finn’s name. Finn twists around to look at him—he’s absolutely gorgeous, head tilted towards the ceiling, adam’s apple prominent in his throat, trousers barely opened with his cock jutting out. He opens his eyes and sees Finn looking and licks his way into the younger man’s mouth.

“This is what you want, isn’t it, Finn?” he asks again. “Fuck me, you said, split me open, you said, do exactly as I’m told—”

“Yeah.” Finn faces forward again, pushed up on the heels of his hands, but Billy yanks his hips into a different position and he falls down on his elbows and forearms. “’S so good Billy, so good, just how I like it.”

“Did that piss you off, before?” Billy leans down and sucks on Finn’s earlobe. His hand touches the center of Finn’s back and he shoves until Finn is flat against the desk, his arms dangling uselessly over the front, his legs pinned by Billy’s. _Anyone could walk in_, he thinks again. He is utterly helpless and exposed and he has never been so fucking hard in his life. “Football and women, that make you angry?”

“N-no—fuck, Billy—”

“You didn’t think it sounded convincing, did you? You thought it would be less suspicious if I just told the truth.”

They’re touching everywhere. Billy’s arms are covering Finn’s, his chest against his back, his legs all tangled up in his, and his hips pistoning against his arse. Finn wishes they were naked. He can feel his sweat beading in his suit and he wants so desperately to have Billy’s hot skin rubbing over his. He wants to finish like this and lick his lover clean, lick up the sweat, suck his cock, even, if it will make Billy happy, if it means they can do this again.

“Please,” he whispers like a prayer. “Please, please—”

“What’d you want me to say, hm, Finn? We don’t talk family business, Mr. Shelby—” Billy groans, a long, low groan that twists Finn’s guts. He smacks Finn’s arse cheek and digs his blunt nails into his flesh. ”We don’t do much talking at all, except for the kind of filth you’d never believe your brother capable of. D’you think they’d believe me? Or would they call me a liar? They’ll believe their little brother is fucking a different whore every other day and sniffing snow, but they’d never be able to picture you like this.”

_It’s true,_ Finn thinks hazily. No one would ever think a Peaky Blinder would bend over like this. They would be disgusted. He's disgusted, too but God, he can’t help it, it just feels so good to be pinned down, so good to give in, so good to have everything driven out of his brain except Billy, his hands and his smell and his voice and his thick, heavy, beautiful cock.

“Please touch me,” Finn whimpers. “Please, Billy, please, touch my cock, please make me come, I need to come.”

Billy turns, tucks his chin over Finn's other shoulder.

“No,” he whispers. He kisses beneath Finn’s ear tenderly. He draws out entirely and then thrusts back in and a sharp, hoarse cry echoes in Finn's throat. “You go ahead and come, pretty boy, but you’ll do it with my prick inside you and nothing else. I know it's cruel, but I can’t help it. You sound too good when you're panting for it.”

Finn stares at the chalk on the board until the letters swim in front of his eyes and tears burn at the corners. His mouth is open, letting all those obscene noises spill out, and his muscles are wound tight as a spring. He has no idea how much time has passed—he’s pretty sure he’s going to stop breathing and die on this desk before he comes because the hard surface of the desk beneath him is getting more painful than arousing. The only comfort he has is the grunts that stutter from Billy’s throat and the bruising grip he takes on Finn’s hip.

_I did that,_ he thinks. _Mine, all mine. _He tucks his chin and forces his body to move, slamming himself back in time to meet Billy’s thrusts.

“Oh, God,” Billy hisses. “Finn. _Finn.”_

He lifts his leg and rests his knee against the desk for better leverage and pushes even deeper, and Finn’s orgasm is a bullet he can't dodge. He claws at the edge of the desk like he’s trying to pull himself away and rocks back like he’s trying to get closer. He makes a high, keening sound in the back of his throat that fades to a rasp as his cock pulses and his whole body shakes.

“Oh, fuck,” Billy moans. “Oh, oh, oh….”

He thrusts against Finn a few more times and collapses against his back. Finn feels lips brushing against his hairline. Billy stumbles back and falls into the chair Finn had been sitting in. It is more than a minute before Finn’s legs work well enough for him to turn over. He leans against the desk gingerly. The room is very quiet.

Billy looks up at him. His eyes are blue again, and a faint, pleasant smile blooms on his face. Finn takes a deep breath and pushes his hair back. They turn into different people when they fuck. Finn likes it—as long as they turn back, after. He wipes his cock with a handkerchief and tucks himself back into his pants. He clears his throat.

Billy stops whatever he’s about to say by reaching out to touch his waistcoat. There are white globs of semen sticking to it. Billy catches one on his thumb and sucks it off.

“Next time,” he says in a very soft voice. “I want to pull out and turn you over and come all over your pretty, pretty face.”

Finn grabs Billy by the throat. He rakes his gaze over the older man’s face, hoping to see fear in his eyes. He doesn’t, but after a moment Billy looks down at the floor instead of challenging him, and Finn decides that’s good enough. He swoops down for a kiss and tastes his own cum.

He straightens. He takes off his waistcoat and puts his jacket back on, tugging at the lapels. He readjusts the ring on his index finger and runs his hand through his hair again.

“Right.” He doesn’t make eye contact, quite, but he nods in Billy’s direction and struts towards the door.

“Finn.”

He turns. Billy has sorted himself out and is strolling towards him, holding Finn’s peaky cap in his hands. He places it on Finn’s head and carefully adjusts the brim.

“Oh.” Finn swallows. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Mr. Shelby.”

Finn can’t help the smile that spreads across his face. He shakes his head and rolls his eyes, and darts in for a quick peck on the lips before he hastens through the door.


End file.
